


Discipline

by facetofcathy



Series: Inversion [4]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, BDSM, Bondage, D/s, Keptverse, Kink, M/M, Painplay, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-05
Updated: 2010-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facetofcathy/pseuds/facetofcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben's working hard on the plan and on keeping his boys in line.  Man's got to do the tough jobs sometimes.  (Issues of consent, read the series description for details.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discipline

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unfinished series and will likely remain so.

Kyle was a bad influence on him. The kid had an unnatural desire to spend his life naked and in bed—unnatural even for a damn body slave, and Ben had been reduced to doing his evening reading in bed just to please the damn kid. It did have its advantages from time to time.

"Sir," Kyle said, and Ben knew that tone, that was the sound of _I've been chasing the tail of my own mind to the point that I can't remember who I am anymore_.

"Kid," Ben said, to piss him off enough to relax him some.

"Sir," Kyle said, mimicking the inflection Ben always put on kid, and Ben had to laugh. Kyle had the most expressive pissy face ever seen, and Ben, god help him, liked it too much.

"Sir," Kyle said again and this time slapped his hand over Ben's mouth to forestall any interruptions before he added a bland sounding, "Master has never punished me."

Ah, Ben thought, that question. "I seem to recall turning that ass of yours all sorts of shades of pink, red, even purple on occasion, so I don't know what you're on about. Anyway, Master Michael is more interested in receiving than giving."

Kyle rolled his eyes, "No really, I hadn't picked up on that. I meant punishment, not—not..."

"Recreation?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, kid, here's the thing. Master Michael is not the most even-tempered man on earth, and I'll be the first to say that, but he really truly does believe that laying a hand on your ass _must be_ for fun. He's got a whole thing where he goes on about the perversion of erotic pain into behaviour modification." Kyle looked more than a little puzzled, so Ben added, "He just likes to use his mouth when he's all het up over something, and not like that, you little pervert." Kyle grinned and ducked his head. He had been around long enough to know that pervert was a compliment in this house. "You piss him off, which I'm sure even you will do eventually, and he'll make this face and start telling you you're a stupid fuck who's dumber than dirt and then, like as not, he'll want to suck you off to make sure you realize he still loves you."

"Sir, you don't mean that."

"What, that he thinks he loves you? Yup. Hell, maybe he does, how the hell would I know?"

"He may love you, Sir, but not me."

"Yeah, well he thinks he does, right enough. He stopped telling me, though, when I wouldn't stop laughing every time he said it." Kyle got the pinched look between his eyes that told Ben he'd reached his limit of accepting their weirdness for one day. "Kid, look, I'm a cynical old man who expected to end his days breathing in tobacco dust and smelling horseshit. What the hell do I know about love?"

Kyle frowned at him for a long time, looking for something—holes in his story, which were legion or the truth maybe, which was in there too. "Sir," he said finally, and the word had a brand new inflection, "if I suck you off right now, you won't get the wrong idea and start thinking I love you, will you?"

"The closest you'll get is that I might start thinking you actually like the taste of come."

Kyle licked his lips and mimed swallowing and moaned in pleasure and Ben was laughing so hard, he damn near choked when the kid went down on him. Kyle was going for a fast and dirty, suck him hard and swallow it down approach, which was fine with Ben, and they'd damn near got to the swallowing part when the door slammed open and Michael was striding into the room, screaming the house down about some thing or other that had him all outraged. Kyle jerked back, pulling off Ben, and apparently his Master's ire turned him on, or maybe the scrape of teeth did it, because he shot his load all over the poor kid's face.

Kyle started laughing, which boded well for his future sanity in this household, and Ben started laughing, mostly at the look on Michael's face, and then Kyle started wiping the come off his face and licking his fingers. Michael made a sound of such obvious hunger that Ben laughed even harder before he had to dodge out of the way when Michael tackled Kyle to the bed and held him down while he finished the clean up with his own tongue. It was just possible that Michael actually did like the taste of come. Kyle was writhing under his Master, seemingly genuinely turned on, and his tongue had gotten loosened over the past few days, and he said, likely without even thinking, "Master, I would be pleased if you would fuck me, um, that is, if you wanted to."

Ben wanted to slap the kid in the face; he damn near did. Michael froze and slowly rose up to stand at the foot of the bed, and Ben was a bit surprised to see the bulge in his pants not diminishing at all. Maybe he'd take that figurative slap back. "Master Michael? You considering it?" he said quietly.

"I, yeah—yeah I am. Is that weird?" He turned a face of such painful confusion on Ben that even he couldn't find it in himself to laugh at that.

"No, Master Michael, that's not weird. Why don't we give it a whirl?" Michael nodded curtly, and Ben sat up, turned his back on Michael to let him have a few moments to get his shit together while he stripped down. "Kyle, come on over here and lie back." Kyle settled onto his back in the middle of the bed, and Ben bent forward and bit his ear before whispering, "You're going to get yourself slick and loose, real loose, kid. When he does it, if he does it, if you show the slightest hint that it hurts or that you're not having the time of your life, I'll beat your ass and it won't be for fun, kid. Hear me?"

"Sir," Kyle said, hardly even a real sound, just a puff of air across his cheek.

Ben tossed him the lube and then went to distract Michael while the kid got himself opened up. Ben slipped up behind Michael and put his hands to work, flicking and pinching at nipples, squeezing, a little harder than usual, at Michael's balls, until Michael said dryly, "I'm not having any trouble with the being turned-on part."

"I see that," Ben said and stilled his fingers and used his teeth instead on whatever he could reach. He could hear Kyle behind them, putting on a show of low moans that sounded real to Ben. "Turn around and watch him," Ben said after a while. "He's beautiful." Ben turned them around and watched over Michael's shoulder as Kyle made the show more visual now, squirming around and thrusting onto his own hand. He had his eyes closed, head turned to the side and he looked like a blissful angel, or a damn good actor. "He wants it, remember that. He wants it damn near as much as you do." Ben flicked a finger across Michael's reddened nipples and smiled at the hip thrust that Michael likely wasn't even aware of. "He needs it too, more than you do. He needs it from you. You'll be giving him what he wants and what he needs, Master Michael."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. I need, that is will you–"

"You want me to slap that nice ass of yours while you fuck him?"

"Please," Michael said, "yes please." He said it in such a low hungry way that he had Ben's dick trying tricks a man of his age really couldn't pull off.

"I think, when you're done, and he's all soft and sated and you're in that state where every nerve in your body is singing, I'll get out the biggest hunk of silicone in that toy chest of yours and fuck you as hard as I can with it."

"Fuck yeah, fuck yeah," Michael said.

"And, unless I miss my guess about the abilities of your boy there, I'll bet he'll be more than able to fuck your face while I do it."

"Jesus, Ben."

"You all nice and loose there, kid?"

Kyle opened his eyes and flowed up on to his knees. He looked at Michael and bowed his head and said, "Does my Master wish to use a condom?"

"No," Michael said, "No, just slick me up." He climbed up onto the bed and Kyle slicked him up while Michael kissed Kyle long and deep and in a way that even a cynical old man might mistake for love.

Kyle pulled his mouth away and then leaned back in to bite Michael's lips, first the bottom, then the top. "How do you want me, Master?"

Michael didn't seem to have an answer, and Ben was about to speak, but Kyle ducked his head and blushed—the kid actually blushed. "I need you to know how much I want you," he said and he squirmed out of Michael's loose grasp and got down on his elbows and knees with his ass high in the air.

Michael laid hands that were very clearly shaking on Kyle's ass and knelt up. He froze there, staring and not moving, so Ben climbed up behind him and pressed his body against Michael's back, let him feel the heat of his body, let him feel his hard muscles and rough hands. He reached around and grasped Michael's cock, and this was a risk that could blow up in his face or could work better than the most calculated of his plans, and he guided Michael towards Kyle and helped him to slide home. The noise Kyle made, some verbal expression of pure and perfect pleasure would have gotten the most wizened-up old-style hetero hard. Michael was an easier sell. He pulled out and thrust back in so soft and sweet that it did something to Ben—it made him slap the man's ass damn near as hard as he could on the next thrust. Michael let out a yelp, slammed his hips forward, and Kyle yelled out, "Fuck yeah, more of that."

By the time they were done, Ben's hand was as red as Michael's ass, Kyle was a boneless heap topped with a smile and Michael was crawling on shaking legs to collapse beside him. "Get those legs spread, Master Michael," Ben said and fished around in the toy box with an unnecessary amount of clatter. "Time for your reward." Ben held up the hard black silicone dildo and Kyle raised a brow at it. Fuck, the thing was huge—this was going to be fun.

* * *

In an attempt to actually get some planning done, Ben had insisted that they conduct business in the den, fully dressed and sitting in chairs like, well, Ben hesitated to say normal people, because he wasn't too damn sure there were any of those left in the Empire. His plan was working—after a fashion.

Michael was sitting at the computer, making notes and looking up information on McBeath. They'd decided to test the waters there more directly. The current discussion, and by discussion Ben meant argument, was about the method of approach. "Neutral territory," Ben said.

"Yes, yes, and again, yes," Michael said, which meant he was going to argue some more. "But I'm not going to some goddamned upper-class restaurant and have Kyle there crawl around at my feet, eating out of my hand for fuck's sake. It's unhygienic and vulgar and really quite stupid."

Ben was sprawled out on the sofa and Kyle was doing some sort of free-form yoga thing on the ottoman, well out of kicking range, that looked like an excuse to show off his flexibility. "You owe me twenty bucks," Ben said to him. "Told you he was going to say that."

"Tapped out man," Kyle said from a sort of headstand that made Ben's head hurt to look at. "You'll have to take it out in trade."

"Come over here and I'll take it out of your hide."

"You said no playing until we sort this out," Michael said.

"We will sort this out only when you see sense."

"By which you mean agree with you," Michael said.

"Well, yeah." Ben wondered if three o'clock was too early to start drinking.

"Sir, Master," Kyle said and mercifully he was close to upright now, "I have a suggestion."

"Let's hear it," Michael said and glared at Ben before turning his full attention onto Kyle.

"There's this place, kind of a club with private dining rooms, it was really trendy about a year ago so now it's either out of business or only popular with the not so in crowd. Place is called The York Club." Kyle knelt up on the ottoman, classic body slave pose. "The set up was for the slaves to kneel on these little padded stools beside their masters. They get their own plates and everything. Very California supposedly."

Michael made a face and Ben jumped in before he could get started. "That sounds perfect, and if you, Master Michael, start in on your usual diatribe about the evils of California superficiality, I'll..."

"Can't think of a threat that's an actual deterrent?" Michael said with a smug grin.

"Tell him you'll be super nice to him, kiss him all sweet and pretty and then offer to fuck him nice and slow and easy," Kyle said.

Michael's face froze in horror and Ben would have tried it if he could have kept a straight face, instead he said, "That's what I've got you for, kid."

Kyle made a face of his own and then got up and sashayed over to Michael. "Master," he said in a husky voice, as he settled onto Michael's lap. "You really are the most amazing man, kind, gentle, sweet." Kyle put his hands on Michael's face and kissed him softly and slowly and Michael played right along, whispering in Kyle's ear, and Ben was glad he couldn't hear the words.

Kyle got down off Michael's lap, and they might have been kidding around but the kid was obviously hard. Ben knew it embarrassed the kid that his training went right out the window when they played. He had nowhere near the control he was supposed to have, and Ben privately thought he'd never learned it—he'd just never fucked anyone and enjoyed it before, so he'd never had to. Kyle put a serious slink in his walk as he crossed the room to sink gracefully to his knees in front of Ben. He looked up solemnly at Ben and then said in the same syrupy tones he'd used on Michael, "Sir—I adore you, Sir. See me here at your feet, where I belong. You are my light, my heart–"

"Kid," Ben said easily, ignoring Michael's snickering, "did I ever show you the ball gag in that toy chest of Master Michael's?"

Kyle gave him a long look, the damn kid probably knew he was addicted to the sounds his boys made and he'd never do more than threaten to get out the gag. "I like toys," the kid said and sort of shimmied his hips, which meant–

"Shit, you've got a plug in your ass?" Michael said. "You've been over there contorting yourself like a pretzel with a plug in your ass? I think I'm impressed."

Kyle preened in an ostentatious way.

"We just supposed to take your word for it?" Ben said.

Kyle pouted at him, which should have been ridiculous, and it was, but it was also getting him horny as hell. "Strip, kid," he said.

Kyle peeled out of his clothes and stood in front of Ben, and then he bent at the waist, legs perfectly straight and set his palms flat on the floor.

"Yup, that's a plug alright," Michael said.

"Why don't you ooze that slinky little body of yours over here and make yourself comfortable," Ben said and patted his lap.

"Really, Ben, in the den?" Michael said. "What will the slaves think?"

Kyle rolled his eyes at Michael's humour and slithered up so that he was face down across Ben's lap with the side of his face pressed against the leather sofa cushion and his legs dangling to the floor.

"You," Ben said to Michael, "hands on the arms of the chair, no touching."

Michael obediently gripped the chair arms, and spread his legs wider. Poor man had put on some rather tight jeans this morning. Ben eyed his crotch and smirked, but Michael was too intent on Kyle to notice.

Ben spanked Kyle's ass hard, once, and then paused and then landed a series of hard blows that left Kyle no time to tense into each blow. The kid was moaning low and quietly, which he usually did. He wasn't much of a yelper unless he was caught off guard. Ben had played with the kid's ass in about every way possible. He'd spent a long afternoon, landing little teasing spanks in no clear rhythm, only to interrupt with the real thing once in a while and Kyle had writhed and moaned and laughed at himself when he tensed up at the wrong time and also stayed hard the whole time. He'd used straps, paddles, his hand, his belt, Michael's belt, whatever wouldn't leave marks. Michael hated whips, canes—anything that smacked of discipline, or marking or long-term pain over sensation. What Ben still didn't know was if the kid actually liked it, since he didn't react like Michael did; he never got to the point where he stopped struggling and tensing up and just went somewhere else inside his head. Ben slapped Kyle's ass again, letting his hand land on the plug and Kyle moaned and bucked in his lap, and Ben had to accept he would never know if it was real or some act Kyle did for him or for Michael, or both.

"This is fun and all, but I'm not getting the workout I want," Ben said. There was a flogger somewhere, something Ben had found, and Michael had explained that he'd tried it, but it had done nothing for him. The kid might like that, and if he didn't he'd fake it pretty damn nice, and it would give Ben the chance to move, to swing hard, to feel his blood pump and his muscles heat. "Slink off to bed, kid. Face down. I'll be along before you cool off."

When Kyle had left, Ben turned to Michael. "Make the reservation, and then you can come watch, but the pants stay on." Ben laughed at the look on Michael's face. "That'll teach you to try to try to show off your ass in tight jeans." Michael obediently turned to the computer and Ben headed for the door. "Oh, and Master Michael," he said, "don't expect to come tonight either."


End file.
